The Thumbnail Book Reviews
by John Q McDonald --- 7 March 2000
by Umberto Eco
A young Italian gentleman, shipwrecked in the South Pacific, is washed aboard an abandoned ship at anchor in the harbor of a magical desert island. Eco uses this remarkable situation to open up a chaotic novel of history, philosophy, and particularly, the symbolic power of the enlightenment. Roberto, stranded aboard a very well-stocked ship, full of plants and animals collected by the missing crew, good food not yet spoiled, and the well-stocked captain's cabin, sits down to pen his rememberances to the lost love he left behind in Paris. These letters are the documentation of his life here and long ago. We get an overview of his life to this point, and we see him slip into a mad paranoia on the ship and of a supposed half brother who is out to ruin his life. There is a lot going on in this book. Eco uses it to meditate on many symbolic issues that seem more appropriate to 17th century philosophers than any today. There are amusing characters with bizarre inventions. Roberto muddles over the plurality of worlds and various religious questions. The great problem of longitude, also, is examined and the mystery of time at the International Date Line is a key fantasy in the book. The book, though, is a somewhat belabored and dragging read. Eco's previous novels, The Name of the Rose and Foucault's Pendulum are entertaining and well structured mysteries. This book, however, is a disappointing follow-up. The story itself, if there is one, is disjointed and broken up by dry philosophical asides. Normally, this might be interesting, but the questions addressed seem to be ones long ago settled. Roberto goes further and further insane before the eyes of the reader. He confuses reality with his own writing, or his own fiction, or his own fantasies of the lost woman. The breakdown is subtle but complete. Yet Eco doesn't really rescue any compelling story from that collapse. There are magical moments, but the book fails to elevate any of that magic, leaving an empty feeling at the end.